Mad Jack: “I ain’t no farmer…”

Gentle readers, as much as I respect and admire and appreciate what our farmers go through to provide much of our food, I always felt I could never be a farmer.

"Farmers don't ride horses," is what I always envisioned in my young mind as a boy. I have always been around farms and farmers and seen the long hours and dedication they put in to fill the grocery shelves. I, too, have done some farming in the past by day-working for some of my friends and neighbors during planting and harvest season.

I drove a tare truck during beet harvest, hauled silage and drove tractors across that sweet-smelling Colorado dirt. I have to admit I wasn't really that good. Once, I weighed my truck full of silage and started back to the field to get another load without unloading what I had on there at the time.

How clever was that? Not! Years ago I wrote a little poem about my thoughts on being a farmer. I called it, "I Ain't No Farmer." Here goes:

“I, too, have done some farming in the past by day-working for some of my friends and neighbors during planting and harvest season.”